Chapter VII No one to greet us and it being too dark to discern the outline of the town and being anxious for a rest we made hasty preparation for repose by spreading quilts on the floor and our children were soon snoring to beat the band. The first object to meet our gaze at early dawn was an Indian Wigwam right opposite our window, an object harmless enough in itself we learned afterwards, but enough to create surprise, if not alarm for the moment. We were not left long to ponder however before we saw occupants emerge from their curiously constructed abode and move around quite unconcerned about our arrival in that vicinity. Brother John Pulsipher was an early caller and bespoke for us a hearty welcome to our new home. “Welcome Home,” was his salutation which almost conveyed the idea that we had been away and just returned. Thus it was, as has been before mentioned that in every place we were greeted as though we had been of one common family instead of foreign birth. My readers may possibly have wondered why we had ventured out so far from our sphere of action and been so persistent in going there despite the many inducements offered us of an alluring nature. The explanation my good reader may be given in a few words, thus Elder Zera P. Terry came as a missionary to Nottingham, England and upon one occasion when I was requested to take my choir to a district meeting held in Sheepshed, some twenty miles distant Elder Terry broached the subject of my family moving to Hebron his birth place stating that my services were greatly needed there and I came as shoe maker and music teacher.
Intending to go to Zion and taking Elder Terry at his word I promised to go to Hebron to make our future home and having made that promise I held it sacred of fulfillment. We left all that had been dear to us by the ties of nature, crossed the ocean, the American Continent, the Escalate Desert and now we were in the last settlement, West in Utah Territory. There were sixteen families in Hebron at that time who appeared just as happy and contented as though they had everything they desired and here again early impressions were made that are not forgotten. To connect this narration “Welcome Home,” it is only just to say that “Uncle John” as most of the people called him was a leading light in that community and therefore spoke with authority and our conversation became mutual so much so that for a short time we almost forgot that we were strangers in a strange land. Promptly on time the bell rang for Sunday School the sound of which was not as familiar to us as the chimes we had so often heard, nevertheless it was the call to sacred duty and thither we went. As might have been expected nearly all the inhabitants were there assembled and Bishop Thomas S. Terry suggested that we hold regular Sabbath services this morning instead of Sunday School, this meeting with the approval of all present, Brother J. S. P. Bowler was introduced to address the Saints for the first time in the land of Zion. Never did I enjoy occupying that position or feel to speak more freely than on that occasion which reminded me of the parting words of President Oscar Hunter when leaving Nottingham that the spirit of my calling would rest mightily upon me in the midst of the people. I was convinced that I had been called to fill a mission of usefulness in that the spirit of my calling, in that out of the way place; a feeling that seemed to be shared by all present that bright Sabbath morning. Brotherly love was manifested in that throng of sincere worshipers and it was made apparent that the gospel was the tie that binds in the church of Christ no matter where convened.
The name Hebron was taken from the Bible where father Abraham dwelt in peace if not like seclusion and the hymn “Rejoice, Rejoice Oh Israel, and let your joys abound the voice of God shall reach you wherever you are found” appeared very appropriate to the surroundings. When Bishop Terry expressed the desire that I be engaged to teach music, assist in Sabbath School and Mutual Improvement Association I realized more fully that our course had been directed aright. This had been my calling for a number of years and nothing could have given me more pleasure than to mingle with the youth of Zion and help to train their eager minds. In December it was our quarterly conference in Saint George, and we were invited to accompany Bishop Terry and others who were going to attend. My sister Mary Ann and family who had come out a year or so previous were residing there and we were anxious to meet them there. The first night we stayed and held meeting in the home of Brother David Canfield in Fort Hamblin, or known as the Mountain Meadows. Meetings held in those small settlements were fully appreciated by the few residents and on that occasion I listened to the liveliest sermon by Jacob Truman that I ever heard. On the next day we passed alone dwelling and upon inquiring concerning who the occupants were was agreeably informed that it was the home of Brother and Sister Henry Chadburn, a man I had known so well in Nottingham England but it being rather late we could not stop that evening but must be sure to do so on our return as the very name of that dear brother was to me like rain upon a parched desert.
We enjoyed a spiritual feast in conference and had a good visit with my sister and family and saw the temple, place we used to sing so much about at home. “Lo the temple long expected in Saint George shall stand, by Gods faithful Saints erected here in Dixie Land,” but this was a realization of former anticipation and we rejoiced to know that we were privileged to view the scene before us. We also had the pleasure of meeting a number of old time acquaintances my teacher in Sabbath School, Sister Angus, also John Carter who had recently been to England on a mission who appeared delighted to meet us there, also Charles Smith once President of Conference in my youth. Taking all in all we rejoiced exceedingly. On our return trip we called to see Brother Henry Chadburn and it would have done his mother good to see our meeting. We laughed and wept alternately and how long that continued I cannot tell but we were reminded that the best of friends must part however we had a most enjoyable time. Happier moments were never spent on earth, true genuine friendship after an absence of a few short years. Arriving home we found preparations being made for the Christmas holidays and for a settlement so completely isolated the anniversary of the birth of Christ was celebrated in right good Christian form which lasted the entire week, including New Years Day. Each evening my family were requested to entertain with their musical voices to the delight of all present as we were well prepared to do justice to the occasion and thus a mutual enjoyment began.
January 15, 1881 marked the birth of our only child born in America. Another tie that binds and we named him George Hebron a name that may always remind him of the place of his birth and of our adoption in the new world. Then the rainy season commenced and we soon began to think it would never quit or that it might be a repetition of the deluge at the time of Noah’s flood but time only tells. Music hath its charms, was verified during those wintery months affording me much pleasure in training the musical voices for surely they had good natural voices but needed training and they were anxious to learn so that they could join in singing with the choir. I may here state that this was a stepping stone to what Bishop Terry termed, “future greatness,” by the fact that three of those pupils later became choir leaders in Utah and Nevada, should that calling be considered great is of course a matter of opinion but useful to say the least. Thus the winter of 1881 sped by as pleasantly as circumstances would permit my dear wife playing a noble part under those strange conditions, and so far from the line of direct communication. Mr. Peck taught school that winter and at the approach of spring the general aspects appeared brighter and called for active operations for the farmers in the field and on the range after cattle. Oh, how I longed to join them in their regular pursuits and occupations for it was then that I began to comprehend my lack of knowledge of what was plainly before me. This was a strange avocation, after a life spent indoors but the whole universe appeared inviting me to put forth a helping hand and I looked on almost dismayed for the condition presented that I had arrived at the crossroads, and for the moment I could not decide which land mark or guide post I should follow.
Our two oldest boys had begun to make themselves useful in various ways either carrying pony mail, herding sheep or any other occupation compatible with their age or capacity and were adapting themselves to present conditions very agreeably and satisfactorily to all concerned. The 24th of July 1881 was celebrated with high honors and a number of people from other towns joined heartily in the celebration not forgetting to tell, us English, people that their ancestors sent Johnnie Bull home to mind his own business, of course we accepted this with a balance of patriotic fervor and tried to appear as circumspect as possible knowing that it was really not intended for us personally. When that spell of National zeal subsided and the holiday was over I was quietly informed that a tannery had been started in Cedar City, Iron County, some fifty miles east and that a shoemaker was needed there to complete arrangements for business. I mentioned that fact to Bishop Terry and he told me that he intended to visit with his daughter residing there and that I might accompany him and ascertain what the prospects were. I had a good kit of tools and I at once accepted the invitation feeling assured that the way was open for me to the kind of employment most suitable and under present conditions most profitable. I may here describe the line of travel from Hebron to Cedar City at that time so very different to what it is later, as we went up Pinto Canyon, past Iron Town. There was no town of course there had been a few houses there when an attempt had been made to make Iron. Over Iron Mountain, and that truly was properly named and may prove a wonder to future generations then onward to Leaches Spring noted as herd-ground where we camped that night and where again I was regaled with those melodious sounds from the midnight howling coyote. Here I should refer to a remark I made while crossing the desert where Enterprise now stands. If that were in England there would be a large city, the foundation is there at this writing.